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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24856798">reprieve</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhymeswithpi/pseuds/rhymeswithpi'>rhymeswithpi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Comfort, Gen, Gladio's POV, Light Angst, Sick Ignis Scientia, Sickfic, bad romance novels, i am bad at titles and it shows, ot4 if you turn your head and squint, which is half as much angst as usual</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:54:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,311</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24856798</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhymeswithpi/pseuds/rhymeswithpi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>The first sign something is wrong is that Iggy’s still asleep when Gladio drags himself out of bed.<br/>The second sign something is wrong is that <em>Noct</em> crawls out of bed before Iggy does.</p>
</blockquote>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>84</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>reprieve</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first sign something is wrong is that Iggy’s still asleep when Gladio drags himself out of bed. It gets brushed off quickly, considering the day before. Running halfway across the Slough in a sudden thunderstorm wasn’t exactly restful, and they’d pulled into… whatever the hell this place called itself well after night fell. It had lights and a blessedly rentable caravan. That was all that mattered, by that point. He’s not entirely sure the caravan was necessary, really. They could’ve slept in the car quite happily by that point, so long as there were <em> lights </em> and they didn’t have to fight off daemons. But they’d lucked out, shelled out the gil, and Iggy had basically faceplanted into the nearest bed, barely sparing a moment to take off his shoes.</p><p><em> Maybe </em> it wasn’t entirely fair that Iggy did the bulk of the driving. Gladio made a note to offer to drive more often, even if everyone apparently agreed his driving was utterly terrifying and a danger to anyone near the roads.</p><p>They’d planned on finishing out yet another ridiculous fetch quest for Dino. Some stupid stone that’s only found on a river bank in Cleigne. Then there’d been some obnoxious detour to catch a frog for Sania, followed by <em> running like hell </em> from an angry herd of garulas, narrowly avoiding pissing off what must’ve been a fucking <em> dinosaur </em>, then yet another dropship full of MTs, which was, of course, topped by the skies deciding to piss rain on them while they tried to make their way back to wherever the fuck they’d parked the Regalia. </p><p>There’s nothing for it, really, not when they need the cash from pretty much whatever job they can manage to take. Trying to avoid the Empire is <em> expensive </em> in a way he’d never thought it would be, between gas and food and the inevitable curatives they need way more than he’d like to admit. And sure, he’s a fan of camping, but there’s something to be said for a lumpy mattress in a cramped caravan, even when he <em> does </em> have to listen to everyone else snoring. There’s plenty of time to think about all the stupid things he misses about home (like his <em> bed </em> - gods, does he miss his own bed) while he gets some coffee brewing. Hopefully Iggy wakes up soon, or they’re going to be eating cup noodle for breakfast.</p><p>Prompto crawls out of bed and makes a face at the coffee before pouring himself a cup. It’s better than nothing, and it helps ease the chill in the caravan. It’s still raining outside, pattering against the metal roof. There’s just enough of a draft to make Gladio want to hunker down with a blanket and a book, drinking coffee he hates. The adventures of Sir Reginald await.</p><p> </p><p>The second sign something is wrong is that <em> Noct </em> crawls out of bed before Iggy does, and they’re all forced to admit yeah, maybe they do run Iggy a little ragged and <em> maybe </em> they should’ve insisted on staying the night back at the Coernix station by the Slough instead of pushing on to get at least vaguely near where this stupid stone is supposed to be. Iggy goes to bed later than all of them <em> and </em> wakes up before them most days. As exhausted as Gladio feels some days, Iggy has to feel worse.</p><p>Prompto makes a quick trip over to the tiny shop for something vaguely breakfast-like after they realize there’s nothing to really make for breakfast <em> except </em> cup noodle, and that idea gets voted down the minute Gladio suggests it. They seem to have all agreed not to wake up Iggy, though, so they end up with some slightly stale protein bars. The coffee is long gone, although they’ll all deny drinking any of it later. Easier to just put on a second pot and pretend there was never a first.</p><p>Iggy deserves to sleep in. Prompto and Noct sit on the misshapen couch and play games on their phones, all in silent agreement that no one was going to risk waking Iggy up before absolutely necessary. Gladio, for his part, returns to his blanket and tucks himself into the corner of the so-called dining area, sipping at a fresh cup of awful. He spares a thought to lament not stopping somewhere with a diner.</p><p> </p><p>Gladio barely looks up when Iggy finally <em> does </em> drag himself out of bed, closer to lunchtime than any of them will acknowledge. Iggy doesn’t even bother with his glasses, pauses only to glare at the again-empty coffee pot before shuffling to take a shower. The third sign is bone-rattling coughing coming from the bathroom. They all share a <em> look</em>, and Prompto ducks out into the rain to run over to the shop again.</p><p>Gladio picks his way across the tiny room, knocks on the bathroom door.</p><p>“Iggy? You alive in there?”</p><p>“I’m <em> fine</em>,” Iggy croaks.</p><p>Gladio can’t even pretend to be surprised. Of <em> course </em> Iggy won’t admit that he’s feeling bad. At least there’s not a council meeting for him to pass out during, like he did the <em> last </em> time he sounded this wrecked. The best they can hope for is talking Iggy into going back to bed, and maybe that the shop has some canned soup. And that the Empire won’t figure out where they are <em> this </em> time, that maybe they can stay in one place for another day or two.</p><p>And sure, Gladio knows his job is to protect Noct first, but sometimes that means keeping his friends from being <em> complete idiots </em> . Another night in the caravan won’t be the end of the world. They could all use the break, really, and funds aren’t so tight that they need to find the stupid rock <em> right now </em> . He’ll slip out later and move the Regalia to somewhere slightly less noticeable, just in case, but they’re not going anywhere today. Noct comes back with an armload of things from the Regalia - he hadn’t even noticed Noct <em> leaving </em>, won’t pretend that doesn’t annoy him - and shoves Iggy’s sleep clothes into his hands. Gladio waits for the shower to shut off, gives Iggy a couple minutes before opening the door enough to thrust them through.</p><p>He’s met with a few more coughs and something that sounds like it was supposed to be thanks.</p><p>“Go back to bed, Iggy,” Gladio says. “We can take a day off.”</p><p>The fourth sign something is wrong is the complete lack of protest. This is Ignis, after all, the man who once tried to pretend he didn’t have pneumonia until he passed out during a sparring match and ended up in the hospital. He was expecting some degree of a fight, prepared to bodily <em> throw </em> Iggy back into bed if needed, and there’s a pang of guilt for not noticing Iggy was sick before it got this bad.</p><p>Iggy shuffles out of the bathroom a few minutes later and flops back into bed. They’re on their own for lunch, then, and <em> maybe </em> his suggestion of cup noodle won’t get immediately shot down this time. Prompto returns shortly after, dripping from the rain and clutching a bag to his chest.</p><p>“Paid for another night,” Prompto says, “and managed to find some soup. And cold medicine.”</p><p>Sometimes Gladio forgets just how observant the kid can be. Iggy's snoring softly, anyway, so any hope of shoving soup or medicine at him will have to wait. Prompto is already busying himself in what passes for the kitchen, so he shrugs and goes back to what he was doing before, pulls the blanket a little tighter around himself.</p><p>Maybe it makes him a little nostalgic, makes him miss looking after Iris when she was sick. Not that he'd admit it to anyone. He might let Prompto paint his nails later, if the feeling doesn’t go away.</p><p> </p><p>Lunch is a sad salad cobbled together from whatever vegetables were leftover with some premade sandwiches from the shop. They're all making an effort to be quiet, filling the time with rounds of King's Knight until no one has enough of an attention span to keep playing. Noct falls asleep on the couch, and he only moves when Gladio threatens to throw him into bed to spare them all the whining later.</p><p>Iggy wakes up again in the mid-afternoon, spares another pointed glare at the coffee pot. Prompto silently passes him a bottle of water and the cold medicine, shoos him back to bed with a vague promise of soup later. Iggy, to his credit, takes them without protest and shuffles back to bed. Gladio swallows another pang of guilt, because <em> how </em> did he not see this before today?</p><p>He almost wants to blame the rain, but he’s heard Iggy’s rant on how cold weather doesn’t cause colds a few too many times. The rain probably didn’t <em> help </em>, though, and now that he’s thinking about it, he’s remembering more and more signs that Iggy was coming down with something and brushing it off as allergies or simply being tired.</p><p>And he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t getting tired of the rain. Maybe it was a nice change at first, but it’s been two days and he <em> really </em> just wants to feel warm again. Not running through the desert warm, sure, but not perpetually chilled would be <em> wonderful </em> right about now.</p><p>Still, Gladio makes himself slip outside and moves the Regalia so it’s hidden behind the caravan. It’s not a great hiding spot by any means, but at least it’s marginally less obvious than just leaving it on the roadside. It’s a chance to bring in some of their gear, if nothing else, and maybe everyone will be less <em> sulky </em> with their phone chargers and clean clothes. Something like that, at least.</p><p>Prompto’s managed to cocoon himself in his blanket by the time he gets back inside. Gladio sinks onto the couch next to him and tugs at the blanket. It’s not fair for <em> one </em> of them to have to be cold, not when there’s enough blanket to share. There’s a minute before Prompto uncurls enough for him to claim part of the blanket.</p><p>“Noct still asleep?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Prompto says. “And Iggy’s still out, too.”</p><p>Gladio shrugs, reaches for his book. Prompto’s fidgeting more than usual, rubbing the skin under his armband, untying and retying the bandana on his arm. Outside, the rain still patters against the metal siding of the caravan.</p><p>"Iggy will be okay, right?"</p><p>"Probably," Gladio says. "Might as well enjoy the day off while we can."</p><p>Prompto hums something at that, leans into his side a bit more. They’d shoved a rolled up towel against the crack under the door earlier, but there’s still enough of a draft that even Gladio thinks it’s cold. There’s only so much coffee they can drink, though, and none of them dares to crack into Iggy’s secret tea stash. Might as well enjoy this little moment of peace, even if it <em> is </em> only because Iggy can’t swallow his pride long enough to admit he needs a break.</p><p>Noct finds his way back out to the couch before much longer, blankets in tow, and flumps down against Gladio’s other side.</p><p>And fine, maybe he misses home and his sister and the life taken away from him a little more than he thought, because all he wants to do is sit here and read and listen to the rain. Prompto huffs almost <em> exactly </em> like Iris does when he’s turned a page before she could finish reading it. He enjoys it a few more times before he goes back to the beginning and reads aloud.</p><p> </p><p>Gladio’s halfway through the second chapter when Iggy coughs and breaks whatever spell this is that’s fallen over them. Prompto nearly startles himself off the couch, recovers well enough to jump to his feet and start heating the soup for dinner. He shifts over a bit on the couch, offers half his blanket, and Noct all but shoves Iggy into the newly opened spot, sits on the floor at Iggy’s feet. Iggy, to his credit, just pulls the blanket around himself and bumps his shoulder against Gladio’s.</p><p>“Don’t stop on my account,” Iggy rasps. “What tawdry adventures is Sir Reginald up to today?”</p><p>“The usual. Seducing an officer of Wiffleham’s army, convincing them to defect with his <em> mighty sword</em>.”</p><p>Iggy dozes off on his shoulder a few minutes later, just as Sir Reginald convinces the Wiffleham officer to join him in bed. They’re barely into just where the mighty sword is sheathed when Prompto returns with soup, so Gladio nudges Iggy awake.</p><p>The soup is definitely canned, based on how mushy the rare carrot chunks are and the sheer amount of salt in the broth. At least it’s <em> warm </em> food. He watches Noct dutifully eat everything but the carrots, rescues them and adds them to his own bowl when he has a minute. Iggy barely eats half his serving, then stares at the rest of his bowl like it’s a problem he can’t figure out how to solve. </p><p>Prompto is quick to take care of the dishes, slides back into his spot on the couch before starting up a new round of King’s Knight with Noct. Gladio pretends to follow the conversation for a few minutes, but honestly, he’s <em> tired </em>. There’s something weirdly comforting about sitting here between Iggy and Prompto, something that makes the ache of loss less overwhelming, makes him miss his sister a little bit less.</p><p>The knowledge they’ll have to move on soon is still there, and they’ll have to finish the fetch quest for Dino and who knows what else before they finally make the trip to Altissia, but for now he’s content to sit here with his friends, reading a terrible romance novel and sharing threadbare blankets. It’s a far sight from home, but it’s something.</p><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>look i don't know where all these came from, either<br/>but thanks for sticking with me<br/>it only took three tries to write this and <em>not</em> have it take a hard turn into heavy angst</p></blockquote></div></div>
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